


A Child's Love

by na_na_na_batcat



Category: DCU, Shazam! (2019)
Genre: Angst, Child Abandonment, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Families of Choice, Family, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-08 12:25:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18623266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/na_na_na_batcat/pseuds/na_na_na_batcat
Summary: “My momma didn’t want me either,” Darla said as she sat down next to Billy. He looked over at her, eyes widening with surprise. She gazed back with an uncharacteristically somber expression. “She dropped me at a church, said she was sorry, but she couldn’t do it anymore. I was too much trouble.”“You’re not trouble, Darla,” Billy reassured.Darla nodded. “Rosa and Victor, they say my momma was troubled. They say that a lot of people who have kids aren’t ready to be parents. Some of them learn. . .some of them don’t. There’s nothing wrong with us. We’re good kids” Darla shifted so that she was leaning against him, “our mommas just never figured out how to be mommas.”Billy gazed at the tree growing in the corner of the backyard. “They gave up. We weren’t worth the effort.”





	A Child's Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting a story on AO3 (how exciting for me!) so if I got something wrong with the formatting please let me know.

Billy sat on the sofa in the living room of the Vasquez home. He had one of Freddy’s old Superman comics sitting open on his lap. He’d never been that interested in comics or superheroes before, but had recently taken a keen interest for obvious reasons. Freddy sat on his right. He had his notebook open and balanced on the sofa’s armrest as he doodled. Eugene was on Billy’s other side, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he enthusiastically jabbed the buttons on his gaming device. Mary was sitting at a desk pushed against the adjacent wall, her back to the room as she studied for an exam. Darla was sitting on the carpet playing with dolls, and Pedro was lounging in an armchair reading a novel assigned for school. They were all doing their own things. They didn’t need to all be sitting together in the living room, but they had all chosen to congregate there. It was nice.

 

Billy turned the page of the comic with a frown. He didn’t claim to be best chums with Superman, but even having met the man only once he could confidently say that the story vastly mischaracterized him. The comic painted Superman as an otherworldly savior with barely any understanding of earth. Sure Superman was an alien, but he acted human. Billy knew for a fact that he knew what a cellphone was and how to use and operate one—Superman had given him his number, for emergencies. Who even wrote and published this thing? Did Superman have any input or say on the comics written about him? Would people start writing comics about Billy’s superhero alter ego? Should Billy copyright his superhero alter ego? Was that something he could do?

 

“Yes! Suck it!” Eugene shouted, cutting through the quiet in the room. Billy glanced over at him. The younger boy caught his gaze. “I’m am a god,” he stated with a wide grin. Billy snorted, amused. “Oh, hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he began, pushing his glasses up as his voice became serious, “how did things go with your mom?”

Billy went rigid, hands clenching around the comic and crumpling some of the pages. He hoped Freddy wouldn’t be mad. “Your mom?” Freddy asked, grabbing his arm. Billy pulled away, ignoring the question. “What’s this about Billy’s mom? What did I miss?” he asked the room at large.

“Billy had been searching for her. Eugene tracked her down,” Pedro explained.

“It was her right? Because if I got it wrong and it wasn’t, we can—” Eugene began.

“It was her,” Billy cut him off.

“Great,” Eugene nodded. “So how’d it go?”

“It wasn’t a good time,” he stated.

“Oh,” Eugene winced. An awkward silence fell over the room. Billy clenched his jaw. He hated it.

“Are you going back to see her when it is a good time?” Darla asked.

Billy looked at her. “There won’t ever be a good time,” he said, keeping his voice carefully neutral. Darla’s brow furrowed. “She doesn’t want me.” _She never did._

“Oh, Billy, I’m so sorry, you deserve so much better than that,” Mary said, the conviction in her voice and the tenderness of her expression was nearly more than Billy could handle. He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream. He would do neither.

“I should of realized. It was obvious,” he replied dismissively.

“Still sucks,” Pedro said.

Billy clenched his jaw. He shrugged. “It’s whatever.”

“Dude, it’s not whatever! What she did, that’s—” Freddy began. Billy shoved his comic at him and stood up. He started to walk out of the room. “Billy!”

“Don’t,” he ground out without looking back. He didn’t want any of them to see the tears gathering in his eyes.

 

He moved through the house quickly. He yanked the back door open and stepped out onto the porch. He slammed the door behind him. He winced at the loud bang it made, immediately feeling guilty. He didn’t want to take his anger out on the others. He didn’t want to be angry at all. Billy crossed his arms tightly over his chest. His mother didn’t care about him. Billy wished he didn’t care. He stepped to the edge of the porch and slumped to sit on the wooden steps. It wasn’t fair that someone who never gave him a second thought could cause him such pain. It wasn’t fair that despite everything she had done to him a part of him still longed for her love. His vision began to blur. Billy blinked his eyes rapidly, fighting back the tears.

 

The door opened behind him. Billy’s shoulders hiked up around his ears. He ducked his face into his drawn up knees. “I don’t want to talk,” he stated. The door closed, but whoever it was had ignored his requested. Light footsteps approached him, coming to a stop at his side. He assumed it was Mary. He was wrong.

“My momma didn’t want me either,” Darla said as she sat down next to Billy. He looked over at her, eyes widening with surprise. She gazed back with an uncharacteristically somber expression. “She dropped me at a church, said she was sorry, but she couldn’t do it anymore. I was too much trouble.”

“You’re not trouble, Darla,” Billy reassured.

Darla nodded. “Rosa and Victor, they say my momma was troubled. They say that a lot of people who have kids aren’t ready to be parents. Some of them learn. . .some of them don’t. There’s nothing wrong with us. We’re good kids” Darla shifted so that she was leaning against him, “our mommas just never figured out how to be mommas.”

Billy gazed at the tree growing in the corner of the backyard. “They gave up. We weren’t worth the effort.” _Why wasn’t he enough?_

“To them. Rosa and Victor and Mary and Freddy and Pedro and Eugene—they’ll never give up on us. They’re our family now,” Darla stated. She smiled, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “It was for the best, that my momma gave me up. She couldn’t be a good momma, and if I stayed with her I never would of met all of you and have the wonderful family I have now.”

“That doesn’t make what she did okay,” Billy said with a frown.

“And what your momma did wasn’t okay either, even if it did bring you to us,” Darla agreed, laying a small hand on his arm.

“It’s not fair!” Billy exclaimed, all the hurt and confusion he’d been bottling up bursting forth. “I was so stupid,” he spat. “I devoted _years_ to finding a mother who never even wanted me, and even now knowing that she abandoned me _I_ _still—”_ He cut himself off, chest heaving.

Darla threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly. “You know, I’m so thankful and happy to have you and all of the others, but sometimes, when I’m in bed at night and it’s dark. . .I cry for my momma.”

Billy wrapped his arms around her. “. . .I still miss her,” he confessed, ducking his head into her hair as moisture gathered in his eyes. “Why can’t she love me?” his voice broke on a sob, he couldn’t stop the tears which rolled down his cheeks.

“Obviously she was the stupid one not you,” Darla stated matter-of-factly. A surprised laugh burst from Billy’s throat.

“And your mom must have been blind not to have seen what a perfect daughter she had,” he said as he wiped at his face with one of his sleeves.

“I love you, Billy,” Darla stated, her thin arms tightening around him.

Billy gasped, the words hitting him like a punch to the gut. When was the last time someone had said they loved him? Nearly a decade ago. He had told his mother he loved her and she had responded with an automatic ‘I love you too, Billy.’ He wondered if she ever really meant it, even a little. What he did know – “I love you too, Darla,” he said, laying his hand lightly on the back of her head – was that when he said it he meant it.


End file.
